


you're never gonna leave me

by aomame (heart_nouveau)



Category: Whip It (2009)
Genre: Christmas, F/F, Family, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Post Movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 17:35:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1175910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heart_nouveau/pseuds/aomame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hey, Pash?” she asked again, because she’d always needed Pash’s reassurance no matter what. “Are you sure that you’re—this isn’t—”</p><p>Pash exhaled a fond, harsh noise of exasperation. “Bliss. Shut up.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're never gonna leave me

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this photoset ([x](http://tomlinsnons.tumblr.com/post/75944541726/whip-it-au)).
> 
> Title from 'Never Gonna Leave Me' by Sia Furler.

  

“And Pash is going to be home in a few days!” said Bliss’s mom enthusiastically over the phone.

“Really, Mom?” Bliss balanced her cell against her ear as she struggled to tip the load of textbooks onto the back room counter. As far as jobs went, the university bookstore wasn’t bad. There was the 15% discount, nothing to be sniffed at, and carrying books all day was giving her arm muscles to rival the others she’d built up from derby. Sure, she had to wear a smock in UT colors that had probably been designed for giants, but as far as Bliss was concerned it was a big step up from her old Oink Joint apron. Then again, just about anything was a step up from her Oink Joint apron.

“Ye-es,” confirmed Bliss’s mom, drawing the word out into two enthusiastic, drawling syllables. “I ran into her parents in the Piggly Wiggly, and they say that she’s flying in Friday morning! When are you coming down again, honey?”

“Um,” Bliss calculated, leaning her entire chest against the stack of books and feeling satisfied as they slid firmly into place against the previous stack, “I’ll be there on Saturday. My last final is the day before that.”

Her mom sighed on the line. Bliss could hear a Shania Twain CD playing softly in the background; she could practically see her mom standing in front of the old stereo in the kitchen, having a furtive cigarette with the window open. “It’ll be _so_ nice to have you home for Christmas, Bliss. You don’t know what that means to me and your daddy.”

“I know, Mom,” Bliss said, and found herself actually meaning it. She turned around and leaned against the counter, digging one hand deep into the pocket of her burnt orange smock. “I’m… looking forward to it too.”

Her mom took Bliss’s genuine warmth as a cue to launch into a detailed explanation of all the Christmas activities she had planned for the family, and—okay, Bliss wasn’t _that_ interested. Cupping a cautious hand over her phone to conceal her not-exactly-permitted phone call (but when else was she going to call her mom, when she had to get to practice right after her shift ended?), she leaned forward to check for customers, eyeing the synthetic Christmas tree that'd been standing in the bookstore’s entrance since mid-November. Yeah. Along with the Christmas lights and faux snowflakes hung up all over the store, there was definitely no way Bliss could have forgotten the holidays while working three days a week _here_.

At least the bookstore decorations were sort of tasteful. Bloody Holly had taken to wearing a Santa hat to all of their December practices, and Smashley had switched her rainbow striped socks for red-and-green ones and painted new streaks of color in her hair to match. It was like skating with a pack of demented, body check-crazed Santa’s helpers.

But there was no denying that Bliss was _weirdly_ looking forward to returning home for Christmas, only an hour’s drive from Austin but seeming worlds away. Apparently that was what five months of not living under your parents’ roof in a tiny nothing town could do—absence made even the most jaded heart grow fonder. That was something Bliss’s mother had told her just before she’d moved to Austin for good, and as Bliss was learning was often the case, her mother had turned out to be right.

And then there was Pash. She hadn’t seen Pash since August, when they’d parted ways for college. She wasn’t _nervous_ , she kept insisting to herself, but she actually felt… like she could be. Which was also weird. It was _Pash_ , after all. _Pash_.

“Your daddy wants another roller skating poster,” her mom was saying. “The one with you on it looking like a little baby raccoon, for his office. He likes that one, though God knows I keep telling him we've got much prettier pictures of you lyin' around, all those pageant photoshoots... Can you bring him one, Bliss?”

“Yeah, Mom. Sure.” She breathed out. “I’ll see you on Saturday.” 

“See you then, honey.”

 

* * *

 

On Saturday, Bliss barely made it onto the express bus down from Austin on time, hauling her sports bag overstuffed with clothes, schoolbooks, and Christmas presents through the doors just as they closed behind her.

Once in Bodeen, home-sweet-Bodeen (God, she couldn't even think the words without gagging), she stopped in her house to say hi to her family (she visited every two months, it wasn’t as if they never saw her) before heading directly to Pash’s, nearly sprinting over the six blocks it took. The door swung open and there was Pash, filling out every inch of a wasp-waisted vintage dress with a long-sleeved shirt underneath. 

She looked different. Good, sort of rockabilly, though Bliss couldn’t put her finger on exactly what it was that’d changed. Maybe it was something about her hair, which seemed longer. Or maybe it was just the relaxed, happy glow of someone who had finally grown into her own skin. Bliss could so totally relate. Whatever it was, it was pretty amazing to see Pash looking this great.

“Well, look who it is,” Pash greeted her, swaying slightly in the doorway, her face breaking into a huge smile. She was doing her best Scarlett O’Hara, Bliss could tell. “Hey, darlin’.”

Bliss’s face cracked into a ridiculous, comic strip, ear-to-ear smile, and she didn’t say a word. Instead, she just grabbed her best friend in an enormous hug and squeezed tight, feeling almost lightheaded with glee. That was the upside of being short—you could always hug your best friend from a prime angle. Then, in a bizarre and totally unexpected development, Bliss’s initial giddy excitement subsided, dissolving into something that felt strangely close to the brink of tears. “Hey,” she said gruffly, somewhere into Pash’s pillowy chest, and held on harder.

“Ow!” she heard Pash exclaim (okay, maybe she was grabbing just a little too tight), and then relax into the hug. There was the comforting feeling of Pash dragging her nails along the back of Bliss’s spine, and giving her a light pat on the head. “Guess you missed me, maybe a little?”

“Yeah, only a bit,” Bliss said, pulling back and shaking her head in a noncommittal motion. That weird, overwhelming feeling was gone. She hadn’t missed Pash _that_ much when Pash was away, not when they talked so often, so why was she having this happy-sad separation anxiety weirdness now?

“I see my little Ruthless is all grown up,” Pash said, clasping both hands under her chin. She held Bliss out at arm’s length like an old relative at a family reunion, taking inventory. _“And_ I see you’re really going for that eyeliner these days. It doesn’t make you look any older, you know.”

“Shut up,” Bliss said, with an embarrassed grin.

Pash hooked her in with one arm, brushing a kiss against the top of Bliss’s head. “All right, you height-challenged hipster. Come on in.”

 

* * *

 

She perched on the bed, cradling a mug of Pash’s mom’s mint tea and watching Pash unpack. Even though she’d spent countless days in Pash’s bedroom, it seemed so much smaller now than before. The Columbia poster Pash had put up that spring after getting news of her admittance dominated the walls, like a literal symbol of Pash’s future triumphing over her past. It made Bliss think of like, propaganda posters or something.

“So how’s New York?” she asked, even though she had extensive knowledge of Pash’s big-city life from all their texts and Facebook chats.

Pash grinned. “Um, _really_ good. And overwhelming, and scary. But overall, amazing.”

She was pulling T-shirts out of her suitcase, clothes Bliss had never seen before. “Oh, nice, man, really nice,” Bliss said appreciatively, pulling her knees up to her chest as Pash yanked out something black leather, followed by something suede. “So, looks like the shopping's good?”

Pash glanced up at her, stifling a bit of a yawn behind her hand as she nodded. “I’d model, but we can save that for later. Here,” she added, digging deeper and tossing a slightly faded Columbia shirt in Bliss’s direction. “That’s for you, if you want.”

“Ooh, your sweaty hand-me-down?” Bliss said with bright fake enthusiasm, catching it one-handed and shaking it open. “Why, I never. You must really love me.”

Pash rolled her eyes. “Sorry, Hurl Scout, I thought sweat was part of your recommended daily intake.”

“True,” Bliss admitted, cracking into a grin. She actually loved the shirt; its worn-in quality was the perfect amount of vintage. She clasped it to her chest, then brought it to her nose to inhale the Pash smell.

“Yeah, so school is good,” Pash continued. “It’s—well, it’s a lot of work, but so worth it. Every time I feel like slacking off, I just remind myself that I could have ended up staying here among the inbreeders. Now _that_ lights the fire under my butt to get going.” Her eyes widened for a moment and she turned to Bliss. “Oh—and _guess_ who I saw in New York.”

“Who?” Bliss didn’t know anyone in New York. If she did, chances were she would have been there, not here. Or… maybe not. Even though Bliss didn’t like to admit it, New York City seemed just a little too big for her. It seemed scary, and Pash was really brave for making it all the way up there. Austin was big enough for Bliss for now, and maybe forever.

“Oliver!” Pash burst out. “He was having a gig in the East Village, this tiny little place. I didn’t go, but I was there for another show and saw the poster. He was opening for another group.” She settled back, looking at Bliss a bit warily.

“Shoulda gone,” Bliss said, wrapping her hands in her new T-shirt. She wrinkled her nose, ignoring the twist of unpleasantness she still felt thinking about her stupid, clothing-promiscuous ex. “And thrown something at him.”

Pash laughed, looking relieved. “He looked really stupid on the poster. Bad haircut.” She bit her lip. “So… no boys since Oliver?”

“Yeah, well...” Bliss made a noncommittal “eh” noise, leaning over to set her half-finished tea on the bedside table. “I mean, I told you about Alex, and the crier. Apart from that, not really.”

Pash started snort-laughing, moving over to rest her head on the side of the bed. “Bliss, I still can’t believe you slept with a guy who cried _before_ you had sex.”

Bliss gave a half eye-roll. “He was cute, so what if he was sad, and as the woman who proudly dated Birdman for an entire summer, I don’t really think you have a leg to stand on here.”

“Oh, _Bird_ man,” Pash echoed in fond singsong, running electric-yellow nails along the edge of Bliss’s thigh with comforting pressure. “You know what—let’s go see him. He keeps texting me. I think he’s lonely.” She drew back and stood up.

Bliss scooted to the edge of the bed, dangling her jeans-clad legs over the edge of the bed. Nineteen years old and her feet still didn’t reach the floor, dammit. “Wait, what about you? What’s the fondling report?”

Pash was rooting through her things for a jacket. “Well, you know about my drunken exploits and casual fuck-buddy who I ignore by the light of day. But sadly, I haven’t had my epic big-city love story yet.” She shook her head sadly, and then batted her lashes at Bliss over her shoulder. “It’ll just have to wait. Someday, baby. I have faith in _loooooove_.”

“And movies,” Bliss added, getting to her feet and following Pash out the door.

“Well yeah,” Pash admitted, “that too.”

 

* * *

 

The look on Birdman’s face when they walked into the Oink Joint side by side was priceless. “We should have taken a picture,” Pash teased him, clasping her hands over her heart in imitation of what he’d actually done. She came around behind the counter like she owned the place and leaned in to give him a fond kiss on the cheek. “How’ve you been, Bird?”

Birdman was actually sniffling. “It’s been so long. I missed you two.”

“Whoa, Bliss still lives in the same state,” Pash pointed out. “No need to go all Oprah show on us.”

“Well, she’s just too cool to come visit me here back in Bodeen,” Birdman said, looking hurt. “I never see you, Bliss!”

“That’s not true!” Bliss exclaimed, climbing over the counter to help herself to a glass of Coke from the soda machine. “You come to my bouts, you come to the after parties…”

“I guess so,” Birdman said, looking mollified as he adjusted his bolo tie.

“The girls love him, they think he makes really good drinks,” Bliss said to Pash in a confiding tone. With a pointed glance at Birdman, Pash nodded knowingly. “And Bloody Holly says he looks just like Mexican Jon Snow.”

“That he does,” Pash said, looking completely enlightened.

They ended up hanging around at a bar downtown all night, Birdman buying them pitchers of beer and Bliss winning three consecutive games of pool with skills she’d honed at post-derby kickbacks, before they drove out to an empty field off the interstate to smoke the Austin-bought spliff Bliss had so thoughtfully provided. “An early Christmas gift,” she said, waving it at the two of them as Pash jangled her Chevy keys and crowed in delight.

Sprawled on the hood of Pash’s car, they stared up at the open, star-strewn sky. Open fields and stars—those were two things that Bodeen would never lack. Pash shivered, drawing the collar of her suede jacket up to her neck to stay warm. “Gorgeous,” she said, taking Bliss’s hand in hers and pressing it to her lips, and then she bit Bliss’s fingertips.

“Ow!” Bliss said, surprised. Absently, still gazing up at the starry Texas night sky, Pash gummed the bite marks in apology.

“It’s almost enough to make me miss this sad little place,” she said, taking Bliss’s fingers out of her mouth and drawing in a deep breath from the joint. Then Pash burst out laughing on the exhale, passing the spliff to Birdman at her right. “God, what a joke. _Nothing_ is enough to make me miss Bodeen.”

Bliss kicked her, and she amended in a put-on drawl, “Except y’all. Of course.”

From the other side of Pash, Birdman sighed. “I’m glad you two are home. It’s nice to be together again.”

“Merry Christmas, Birdman,” Pash said benevolently, turning to look at him, and Bliss echoed it, rolling onto her side to look at the other two. “Merry Christmas, Birdman.”

“Merry Christmas, Pash,” she added, and Pash turned to her and made a hideously ugly face. Bliss made one back, and for a moment everything was absolutely perfect.

 

* * *

 

Christmas was spent with their respective families, and Bliss gave her parents knitted scarves and socks in rainbow colors. She’d picked up knitting from Maggie, and they regularly had stitch ‘n’ bitch nights with Smashley and Maggie’s kid, who was of course better than any of them. Riley was actually the one who’d taught Bliss how to purl, impatiently batting his mom away when she’d given less than perfect instructions—that kid, Bliss thought, was going places.

“Well, that’s just darling,” Bliss’s mother proclaimed, unfolding the length of her new scarf and getting an eyeful of the alternating rainbow yarn. “And such… daring colors.”

Bliss smiled, thoroughly appreciating her mom’s restraint. “I thought it would keep you warm on your route.”

“And it will,” her mom said gamely, coming over to give Bliss a thank-you hug. And for all the time that Bliss and her mom had struggled to see eye to eye, Bliss honestly thought it felt pretty rad to be on such good terms now.

Pash came to sleep over the day after Christmas. Bliss’s mom had taken Shania to hit the Boxing Day sales at the mall, or to participate in what Bliss liked to think of a mass capitalist mindfuck; anyway, it meant Bliss and Pash had full run of the family room to watch the crackly, ancient VHS of _Heathers_ for old times’ sakes. Then Bliss put on an old Supremes record and they sprawled over her old bed in the basement, listening and drinking the red wine Pash had bought from Target a few towns over using her ridiculously shitty New York fake ID.

“I bought it, but you don’t even need it in New York City,” Pash said dismissively as Bliss flipped the card over in her hands, vaguely disappointed Pash had forgone the female equivalent of ‘McLovin’ for the relatively normal ‘Portia Allen’. “Nobody cards there.”

“Lucky,” Bliss said enviously. Her own fake looked legit enough, but her perpetual babyface caused all bartenders to give her the hairy eyeball every time she tried to order a Lone Star. It wasn’t exactly fun. She’d had a hard enough time getting her mom agree to let her move to Austin, and getting busted for underage drinking was not the sort of fuel she wanted to add to the fire.

“How is it that I spent four years dying to get out of this house,” Bliss said after a few coffee mugs of red, in the middle of _Baby Love_ ,“and yet now that I’m back, it’s like, nostalgia central. I almost _miss_ it here.”

“Possibility,” Pash said simply. “You have an exit route.” She heaved a dramatic little sigh. “Or that’s growing up, I guess. Coming back I already feel older.”

Bliss paused. “I think I’m going back to Austin tomorrow,” she said. “I don’t like it here _that_ much. Four days is my max.”

Pash rolled over, looking affronted. “And you tell me this now?”

Bliss widened her eyes innocently. “You should come, Pash. How much longer until you have to fly back?”

“A week and a half.”

“So stay for a week with me in Austin,” Bliss suggested, hopeful. “I can show you around.”

Pash laughed. “Oh, I’m sorry, what were we doing all summer?” That summer, before Bliss had officially moved to the city and Pash had left for college, they’d made Austin their stomping ground, exploring every corner they could in between the demands of Bliss’s derby schedule and Pash’s job.

“Well, I know it _better_ now,” Bliss said loftily, and Pash rolled her eyes with a snort. “Just consider it a precursor to when I come visit you in New York.”

Pash pretended to think about it, pulling the sleeves of her dinosaur-printed cardigan down over her hands and extending one to shake. “All right, deal.”

They shook on it, and flopped back onto the bed to gaze up at the ceiling. The record ended, needle moving to the side with a soft mechanical click and Bliss exhaled, glancing sideways at her best friend. “I missed you, loser.”

“Missed you too, four-eyes,” Pash said sweetly, lips curving up in an angelic smile.

Bliss made a face. She’d been wearing her glasses more and more often since starting college, and since they hadn’t been doing anything that day she had chosen to wear them.

“Thanks, Pash.”

“Just keeping you down to earth. Don’t think that just because you’re Babe Ruthless you’re a 24/7 babe.”

Bliss extended her hand flat against the bed and smacked it against Pash’s arm. Pash smacked back, and they had a moment of really girly, lame Corbi-level slap fighting before Bliss had a slightly scary surge of adrenaline, and a sudden, spur-of-the moment thought. _What if I…_

Naturally, she did it. Bliss rolled onto her side, put a hand on Pash’s cheek, and pressed her mouth to Pash’s mouth.

It took a moment for Pash to respond, but she did, leaning in and running a hand through Bliss’s hair. Pash’s lips parted, there was a gentle hint of tongue, and then Bliss had a moment of actual shock when she realized what they were doing.

“Pash?” she said, drawing back. She moved her hand to Pash’s shoulder, trailing through the soft dark curls. “Is this too weird, or—?”

Bliss knew her eyes had gone wide behind her glasses, so maybe that was why Pash was chuckling softly at her. Pash's dark eyes had turned even darker, but she looked really cute with her cheeks all pink like that. Yeah—Bliss’s best friend was really _cute_. Bliss couldn’t remember if she’d ever thought about that before, or if she’d ever thought about doing _this_. She’d just kind of done it, and now here they were. “I think you should kiss me again,” Pash said softly, with no trace of her usual acidity, “and then we can find out.”

So Bliss did. Somehow she ended up slinging a leg over Pash’s hips, so that when Pash rolled onto her back Bliss found herself straddling her. Again, not thinking, she sat upright and slowly tugged the Columbia shirt Pash had given her over her head, since that was the part that usually came next.

“You’ve had that bra since sophomore year,” Pash observed, her hands coming up to rest on Bliss’s parted thighs. The corners of her mouth curved up in a wry smile, and Bliss had a sensation of growing heat between her legs. She fought the urge to grind her hips forward because come on, this wasn’t soft porn. Not yet, anyway.

“Yeah, well, not all of us have boob growth spurts,” she said lightly. “If it still fits…”

“No, I like it,” Pash said, hands wandering up to rest on the sides of Bliss’s waist. “It’s one of my favorites.” She trailed a slow line down the middle of Bliss’s stomach with the pad of a finger, and Bliss tensed instinctively even though Pash’s hands were warm. It was nice, but distracting. “Damn, Ruthless. Look at you.”

With a responding surge of confidence, Bliss leaned forward to pin Pash’s hands over her head. “Show-off,” Pash added appreciatively. She squirmed around to gaze up at Bliss’s outstretched arms, raising her eyebrows. “And _when_ did you get so jacked, may I ask?”

“You know, just slinging those heavy books all day,” Bliss said, shrugging with exaggerated modesty. “In the bookstore.”

“Mmm, talk dirty to me,” Pash said, biting her lip with a teasing smile. But Bliss saw the flicker in her easy expression, enough to signal that Pash fully sensed the weirdness of this situation. Bliss was right there with her—she wanted to keep going, but there was a flicker of fluttery nerves just behind her belly button. And when Bliss actually considered what she was doing—making out with her best friend since forever, and possibly doing more—it was enough to make her pause.

“Hey, Pash?” she asked again, because she’d always needed Pash’s reassurance no matter what. “Are you sure that you’re—this isn’t—”

Pash exhaled a fond, harsh noise of exasperation. “Bliss. Shut up.”

Okay. That was as much of a go signal as Bliss was going to get, so she decided to run with it. She leaned down and kissed the corner of Pash’s lush mouth and then the center of it, because it felt like the right thing to do. Pash smelled really good, because she always did. Bliss didn’t stop to think. She just kept going.

“You said no boys,” Pash gasped after a few moments, arching slightly off the bed as Bliss’s tongue found a spot behind her ear. Her nails dug into Bliss’s spine, and Bliss shivered. “But you really know what you’re doing!”

“Yeah, well,” Bliss said wickedly, tonguing a line down to the base of Pash’s collarbone and drawing down the collar of Pash’s sweater with one finger for better access, “I didn’t say anything about girls.”

“You little liar!” Pash said, but she was reaching up to fumble with the clasp of Bliss’s bra and she didn’t sound angry at all. So Bliss lifted her hands behind her back to help Pash out. It was the least she could do.

 

* * *

 

Afterwards, Bliss pressed insistently against Pash’s side, cuddling close for warmth. It felt a little weird, but exhilarating. She would have been crushed if Pash didn’t reciprocate—or if there had been any indication that they’d crossed a line that wasn’t meant to be crossed—but Pash just put her arm around Bliss and they rested there together, staring up at the ceiling in silence.

“Maybe I could come to Austin after I’m done with college,” Pash said after a long time. “For grad school.”

Bliss felt something lift in her chest; she turned her head very slightly to look at Pash. “Really? But—the whole big city, New York thing, that was your dream. Once you got there, I thought you’d never leave.”

“Yeah,” said Pash. “But New York’s not, like, a place to live for the rest of your life. Four years is a long time to stay there. And I kind of hate to admit it, but sometimes I miss Texas. Sometimes.”

“Well, Texas misses you,” Bliss said sincerely. “I miss you. When you’re gone.”

Pash stroked the hair off Bliss’s forehead, and Bliss pressed closer. She didn’t care if she was being needy.

“Miss you too,” Pash said softly, "but Bliss, you know I'm right here. I'm always right here."

And that was all Bliss needed to hear, really. 

  


End file.
